


Paroxysm of War

by NeKage, Norexia (NeKage)



Series: The War bleeding our hearts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst, F/F, F/M, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter Dies, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Insane Voldemort, Mudblood, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Multi, Occupied hogwarts, Pansexual Luna Lovegood, Past Torture, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Pregnant Ginny Weasley, Psychological Torture, Rated E for later chapters, Severus Snape Lives, past violence from Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeKage/pseuds/NeKage, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeKage/pseuds/Norexia
Summary: The war was lost. The Dark Lord Voldemort has taken the Wizarding world of great Britain for himself, finally a step closer to his own absolute goal; immortality. Harry Potter is dead, and with him the Order. Now, no hope lies in the hearts of the few who survived.Severus Snape, the right hand of the Dark Lord, watches from the side of his enemy, watching as everyone he swore to protect fade into non existence.Still, he hopes, and works to undermine the monster he is bound to.Harboring his own secrets, Snape sets to find a way to bring down the Dark Lord once and for all, but to do so, he'll need all the help he can muster.Even if he is to work with one of his old students, one whose intelligence is both her strength, and her potential downfall.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Series: The War bleeding our hearts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072943
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. Pure Blood of Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It has been such a long time since I've actually written and published a work. Please let me know if I should continue this series! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and though it's shorter than usual, I hope it catches your attention!!

The agony was, to put it simply, unbearable.

It felt as though his blood was boiling, his body the cooking pot. His sallow skin bled from the lacerations that continued down his arms and under his clothes, the viscous fluid sticking his clothes to his damaged flesh.

“To say I’m displeased would be an understatement, Sseverusss…” The man before his hissed, his wand trained on the crumpled form. His voice was raspy and aged, though his form contradicted this. Short strands of wavy brown hair cradled his youthful face, his tall and lithe form reminiscent of an attractive young man in his mid twenties. His eyes, however, held an ancient and cruel power that the entire Wizarding World knew and feared. Their crimson hue breaking the illusion that this was a normal wizard.

“Speak!” another flick of his wrist forced out a cry from Severus, his own gaze remarkably meeting his assailant, as shaky as it was.

“M… My lord… As I’ve said, there was evidence of an intrusion, and I’m working to find those involved-”

His sentence was cut off as another wordless curse ravaged his insides, and his stomach emptying the rest of its already minimal contents across the dungeon floor. The dark lord stepped forward and pulled him to his feet, sidestepping the mess and caressing the other’s face with an eerily gentle touch, his fingers travelling down until they grasped firmly upon his chin.

“My dear, dear Severus. Forgive my harshness with you.” His tone was soft but eyes wild. “This is no way to treat one of my trusted generals…” he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Severus’s scarred cheek, his tongue flicking out to capture a rogue tear. 

“However… I’m sure you understand that punishment is necessary in the eyes of failure… Don’t you agree, my Draco?”

The pale haired man startled at his name, his position right behind his lord on his knees. He glanced briefly at his collegue before bowing his head lower to the ground.

“Of course, my lord.”

“So you understand the need to show no mercy even to those of my trusted circle? Even to the man who helped me take back Hogwartss?”

Draco’s voice quivered as he answered again, “Of… Of course my lord.”

The dark lord beamed, tasting the fear emanating from his follower. He chuckled; a low, raspy sound that chilled the bones of even the bravest of wizards. He then turned his attention back to his general, his gaze softening as Severus once again assumed the natural position of kneeling submissively. His body twitched as the aftereffects of the abundance of curses flooded to the surface, but his previous screams and cries were hushed, his pain and weakness once again behind that stone cold mask. 

“I will endeavor to find the criminal’s post haste my lord. Forgive me for my deficiency.” his words were clear and unwavering as he placed his hand upon his heart, his dark eyes meeting his master’s briefly before bowing his head to the floor.

“As you should. Do not disappoint me again. _Find it._ ” The last part was hissed, snakelike to its interior.  
Severus kept his head to the floor as the Dark Lord saw himself out, “Draco, make sure to fix him up in time for his next class, it would be a shame to frighten the students…”

A brief moment passed before the Dark lord apparated, signalling for Draco to relax and begin healing his godfather.

There were no words spoken between them as Severus’s cuts began to close and the pain ebbed to a dull pulse, and no words of thanks as Draco finished his spells. Severus stood and straightened his robes, waving his own wand to clean his mess before turning his back to the boy, closing his eyes as the quick, retreating steps of his godson reminded him of what this world has become.

The false sense of normalcy was one Severus disdained deeply within himself. He played his part as usual; as the cruel and unwavering Professor of Potions. His students feared him just the same, though he couldn’t say he enjoyed the infamy in his barbarity as he once did. He used to enjoy the way his pupils would shrink away as he inspected their potions, taking points away for even the smallest mistakes. Now, as he watched his class quietly work on their Invigoration Draught brew, he felt only grief. This potion specifically reminded him of Harry Potter, and his own recklessness when he destroyed the young mans’ potion. Looking back, Severus regretted his quickness to anger, even if that regret stemmed from the boys’ untimely demise.

His robes cascaded in a onyx cloud as he strode through the classroom, stopping only to snap at those who were adding the wrong doses of ingredients. 

“Miss Lambkins! Are you even following the directions? You are lucky that Alihotsy is a very miniscule ingredient. Anything more potent and you could easily poison us all.”

The room was deathly silent as the students practically gawked at the professor. 

The potions master rolled his eyes at the display as he leaned forward and growled, “10 points from Hufflepuff.” 

The student in question cowered slightly, still holding the leaves in a now vice grip. Severus practically growled as he waved his wand, wordlessly taking the extra two ingredients from her hand. 

Even with Hogwarts now under the jurisdiction of Voldemort, there were still separate houses. Most assumed that there would only be room for Slytherin's in the acclaimed school, but the wizarding world liked to forget not all of his followers were the snakes they perceived them to be. The only thing that changed was the separation of classes. Pureblood, Half bloods, and Muggleborns were now separated. Each given their own unique form of education. Of course, all were still allowed to attend due to their magical ability (much to Severus’s own surprise), but blood purity was still held above all else. All were taught similar courses of study, but certain classes differed.

As of right now, Severus was teaching a class of 6th year Muggleborns, a quiet yet rather incompitent group that seemed to mess up in any given turn. However, their ineptitude wasn’t from their magical line, rather that the curriculums they were taught were severely behind their privileged peers.

With a sigh of disdain he waved his hand up, signalling the end of class. The students fumbled with their books and ingredients as they cleaned up rather hastily, their fear of Severus even evident in the way they left the classroom. Desks were, as always, pristine, though the satisfaction was quickly lost on him as he was left alone. 

He hated that he was forced in such a situation, teaching perfectly healthy minds a watered down version of the curriculum. Without the knowledge that he was withholding from them, it was unlikely Muggleborns would be able to pursue better careers. It was truly survival of the privileged. Not that they would be able to any way, with their blood status practically written on them.

Not long after the war a new charm was brandished to each and every magical citizen within Great Britain. All, save for those of Voldemort’s greater circle, were subject to this invasive charm, which searched within the Wizard or Witch’s very core, briefly highlighting their heritage. It was not dissimilar, at least in Snape’s eyes, to the great muggle war that happened in history, with people displayed as being different. That similarity frightened him, as his brief time studying their history demonstrated the horrors the Wizarding World was headed towards.

Muggleborns were easy to spot if necessary, a quick incantation and their purity would be displayed. Each rune coincided with what they really were.

To Severus’s relief, this charm was not extended to him, as the death eaters were seen as high class officials, only answering to their Dark Lord, but many already knew of his half blood status. Many still threw insults at his heritage, though in terms of hexing, only one person was allowed the honor. There were also little to no limitations to those that were Half blood, but their education was still limited in comparison. 

He ran his hands through his hair in addled frustration, flinching when the strands caught on his still healing cuts. Draco was an amazing healer, but there were certain parts he was not to fix; his hands being one of them.  
It was to remind him who he belonged to, and with each flick of his wand, each potion brewed, the stings and scars served to remind him he was not his own, rather another pawn in this long drawn out game.

In a sudden and rare fit of uncontrollable rage, the potions master slammed his fist against the desk, papers fluttering to the floor. His knuckles ached when he finally lifted them, slightly bleeding due to opening more cuts. No, he must remain stoic. Quiet, stone faced, that was who he was, what the Dark Lord wanted him to be.

Reminding his heart to calm as he thought of all that has been lost… 

Lily…. Her son, both gone.

“Forgive me….” Severus whispered, allowing himself a tear to slip down his face as he reminisced over his failures.

A pulse from his forearm brought him back to reality, and with a deep breath he straightened himself, wiping the weakness from his face before turning to answer the summons.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to those who have followed so far! I appreciate all of the support!  
> Hope you enjoy!

**The Daily Prophet**  
June 22nd 2000  
...Two years have passed since The Dark Lord has saved the known Wizarding world from complete destruction. Today all wizards and witches celebrate that anniversary as the magical Great britain continues to thrive under his guidance. This is especially evident with our youth, as Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, shines brightly with the introduction of new curriculums…. 

“Absolute Bollocks…”

….The collaboration of the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts ensures measures will be taken to any threat, and with the Dark Lord currently filling in as Headmaster until he finds an adequate replacement…

“This is complete shite!”  
The full tankard hit the wall with such force the wood split on the side, virtually all of the ale spilling to the vinyl floor boards below.  
The individual responsible glared contemptuously at the paper in front of him, his typically alabaster skin now flushed red with anger.  
The witch across from him just stared silently at him, her eyes sad as she uncrossed her arms to wave a silent spell at the cup. Mess dissipated away and the empty tankard levitated until it was gently placed in front of the man. She bit her lip softly as he immediately filled it up again.

“Every time I read the bloody paper I get this…. This rubbish!” to make a point of it, he slammed his hand hard against the paper, crumpling the front page. The picture was still moving after the abuse, displaying The Dark Lord himself standing next to the current Minister of Magic.  
It was a sad sight, she thought to herself.  
Ron Weasley was once a kind hearted and sweet boy, known for his compassion and excitable nature. Now, just two years after their lives at Hogwarts, his blue eyes now dull, empty of everything save rage. His bright red hair even seemed to reflect this change, wild from months of neglect.  
When was the last time he even smiled? The thought was always with her, even now, as her friend stood before her, exclaiming like some madman.  
What could she do but listen?  
Finally noticing the other’s lack of response, Ron relaxed, releasing tension in his fists as he tossed the now ruined paper to the side. “I’m sorry ‘moine. I… I honestly wouldn’t get the paper if I…”  
He couldn’t finish his sentence. Both of them sat in silence as the unsaid words hung over their heads.  
The weekly edition of the Daily Prophet had a section devoted to captured and/or deceased dissenters and prisoners of war. In the beginning, there were so many dead that there was an extra charm on the paper to allow the reader to flip through magically instead of printing extra pages. It was devastating.  
Hermoine levitated the paper into her grasp and she flipped to the page, sighing softly as she read through the deceased.  
This week’s edition was thankfully rather empty, with only a few casualties that she didn’t recognize.  
She cringed at her own relief when she saw the unfamiliar names. These people, after all, were on her side. Each death should have stabbed her straight in the heart, but as the years continued she found herself succumbing to the numbness that enveloped her.  
She nodded her head as she passed it over to Ron, who was much more vocal of their ‘luck’.  
“Thank Merlin! At least another week of breathing easy.”  
Hermoine watched him as he leaned back into his chair and gulped the rest of the watered down ale.  
This was about the happiest she ever saw the man, slightly buzzed and relieved. After the paper showed no casualties of his family or friends, he was, for lack of a better term, content. And for a few moments, she’d even see the Ron Weasley she fell for.  
That was by far the worst part.  
She blinked out of her stupor when he abruptly stood, brushing off his work robes and pulling out his wand. “Ah… I forgot the time… Crinus Muto!”  
The transfiguration spell changed his long red hair to a short washed out blond, changing him from one Ron Weasley to Ellwood Locus, Bartender of the newly opened Fizzystick Inn and Tavern.  
It was the perfect cover. Posing as quiet halfblood newlyweds moving into London to make it big. Hermione was Llyra Locus, a quiet and well behaved woman who primarily stayed at home to take care of the household.  
The perfect stay at home wife.  
“Hopefully it won't be too busy at work, I shouldn’t be too late tonight.” Ron smiled with his newly formed beard, honestly unrecognizable even to her. The smile was friendly enough as he practiced getting into character, but Hermoine could see the farce it really was.  
Leaning in to give her a slight kiss on the cheek, he made his goodbyes and apparated from their living room, leaving Hermione with only a newspaper and darkness for company.  
It took her a moment to gather herself, as her own thoughts seemed rather jumbled. Here she was, reminiscing about what could have been, when she should be in the here and now.  
However, it was the anniversary of their defeat… And the death of one of her closest friends.

She arose from her spot at the table and made her way to their dresser, tears forming as she opened one of the drawers, pulling out a magical picture of the golden trio. It was taken during one of their trips to Hogsmead, with Harry in the middle laughing about… Something. His arms were hung loosely around both hers and Ron’s shoulders, both of them smiling wide as they pushed against each other playfully.  
Hermione placed the picture on the top of the dresser, knowing full well Ron would put it back when he came home. He simply couldn’t handle the reminder that Harry was...

She let her eyes sweep around a moment, her breath catching. She constantly reminisced at what might have been, she couldn’t help it. And at the moment her thoughts were on what Harry would have thought about their… New home.They were lucky to find such a place where no questions were asked and more importantly, not many neighbors. However, its magic was old and weak, not enough to preserve the building from age.. Wallpaper peeled when the weather changed, no amount of spellcasting would keep the plumbing in check, and the bricks of the fireplace decided to pop off nearly every time they stoked the fire. It was as if the building wanted to destroy itself.  
It was a wholly rotten place, but it was their home.  
Ron always tried to comfort her when she fussed about the state of things, explaining that it wasn’t too bad and that it was only temporary, but he didn’t have to live with it.  
He went to work every night and was often out until early morning.  
She was always here, staring at the peeling wallpaper and contemplating her life.  
Or so, that’s what Ron was led to believe.  
With a grimace, Hermione whispered an incantation and part of the floor opened up, revealing a multitude of books that her partner was unaware about. The titles ranged from genre to genre, but they all had a similar theme.  
Whether it was disease, a magical bomb, or just plain poison, most of these books went way too deep into the methods of murder or death, a subject that she wouldn’t have dare thought about back when she was an innocent student.  
She was far from that perfect little girl now.  
“Mittlegrews Guide to Undetectable Poisons” was Hermione's most recent endeavor, one that she found interesting but not too practical. Still, notes were scattered through the book, an organized chaos that marked each page that was potentially helpful. Listed were poisons ranging from small doses meant for one individual, to ones meant to be released to a wide populace.  
It was a rather interesting book, and one that kept her busy as the days went on.  
It wasn’t as if she was going to use any of these tactics, but… The Dark Lord might. If there was ever a chance to rise a rebellion from the ashes, she was well studied enough on different methods just in case Voldemort expanded his murderous tendencies.

She didn’t dare utter the name aloud, and a broken chuckle escaped her lips as she thought about how Harry would have chastised her for being afraid of his mere name. But she was right to fear it now. Nothing was as it was, there wasn’t an order to protect her anymore. The… Monster’s name simply held too much power.  
Hermione nodded her head, gathering more courage as she flipped through the pages until she inevitably read through the entire book. This was exactly why she kept buying books on such dark subjects. Not only did it keep her overactive mind busy, but it gave her a chance to leave her home-, no… Her prison. Of her own design.  
She grabbed her cloak and whispered her own transfiguration spell. It was simple enough, Her hair was now a dark black onyx color, hair straight instead of an unruly mane. Ron didn’t let her leave, he wanted her to stay hidden as an obvious member of the previous golden trio, even with her transfiguration spells. He was rather… Overprotective, and while he risked himself every day to maintain appearances and pay their rent, he refused to acknowledge that she could hold her own just as well.  
He also seemed to forget just how much Hermione hated standing by and doing nothing.  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, imagining the location vividly before apparating.  
She suddenly appeared in a dark and empty part of Knockturn Alley, catching herself on the cold and slimy brick wall right next to her. Even with her practice with apparition, she still felt the effects, the uncomfortable squeezing as if she was in a tiny tube.  
Quietly she pushed herself off the wall and made her way down the way, her dark blue cloak billowing behind her. The streets were fairly empty for this time of night, most witches and wizards either at home or in the various magical bars. Fortunately for her, the night was much less lively in the Alley.  
Opening the door to one Borgin and Burkes, she inwardly cringed as the smell of mold and sweat hit her senses. It wasn’t a pleasant place to visit, certainly not one she’d prefer, but this shop always had books that were otherwise virtually impossible to get a hand on.

“Ah! Ms. Locus! Always a pleasure!” Mr. Borgin greeted her as she slipped through the rather… Chaotic mess that was amassing at the front door. Various newspapers were piled near her feet, along with many other items probably waiting to be tossed. “Can I interest you in a jar of Pixie Blood? For you my dear, I would offer you a discount!”  
She forced a small smile as she eyed the jar, her stomach slightly turning at the thought of the poor creature who was likely drained alive for a measly potion.  
“Oh you know that’s not necessary, Sir Borgin. As always I find myself drawn towards your library.” At this she gestured her hand with a wave towards the stacks of books in the corner, most covered with a film of dust save the few she had already feathered through.

“Of course… Let me know if you’re in need of any assistance. And please…”  
The shop keep placed the jar back on the shelf behind the counter “Call me Boris.”  
Goosebumps tickled her spine as his bloodshot eyes raked up and down her figure, as cloaked as it was. All she could do in answer was smile stiffly and nod, before snaking her way to the corner.  
This was by no means a library. There were shelves full of books, sure, but the majority of his stock laid on the floor, destined to decay from lack of care. Many books Hermione flipped through had pages torn or completely missing, with some so withered she hesitated to touch them.  
However, due to her relatively frequent visits to the shop, she managed to organize those which were readable and those that should be tossed. Mr. Borgin found her rather charming to say the least, and gushed about how much she was helping the shop with her singular obsession with his ‘library’. He even allowed her to read to her heart's content, as long as she made some purchases from time to time.  
He never questioned her timely appearance either. Even as she arrived three days a week, half past 10. Never early, never late.  
It wasn’t as if Hermione spent all of her time here, but when she found herself in a rut or bored out of her mind, this was ironically the safest place to go. Into the heart of enemy territory, so to speak. She couldn’t very well use the Hogwarts Library after all, and public libraries were definitely out of the picture.  
She was so engrossed in her book, “Dark Totems for the Witch's desire” that she didn’t acknowledge the presence of another customer until a heated conversation arose.  
“You have no right to overprice me for this… Swill. It’s preposterous that you think yourself above the dark lord.”  
The hissed whisper startled her out of her book induced trance, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.  
A tall dark figure loomed over the desk, his face shadowed by both his hair and the dismal light. It was obvious Borgin was rather… Intimidated by the situation, but surprisingly he held his ground. She visibly paled when she recognized those dark and tattered robes.  
A death eater.  
“As you know, Unicorn’s blood is extremely rare… It would be foolish of me to sell it for any less.”  
“And I am telling you that this is diluted. It’s virtually useless in its application. You’re lucky I’d even offer you this.” the galleons glittered in his hand, fluttering between the fingers with exemplary dexterity before being slammed on the counter. Hermoine jumped in surprise, her grip on the book near damaging. She unfortunately let out a rather undignified noise, one that quickly painted her cheeks pink.  
That voice… Even whispered it was so familiar, and she felt a fool as the two figures finally acknowledged her presence.  
Her breath caught as the stranger slowly turned, glancing offhandedly at her. His dark bottomless eyes met her own, brow becoming furrowed the longer he stared at her.  
Her heart raced as fear washed through her like a sheet, her insides twisting as she thought she saw recognition in his eyes.  
It was him.  
Severus Snape.  
His eyes didn’t leave her as he spoke to Borgin,  
“5 galleons, take it or leave it.”  
The shopkeeper's eyes bulged at the sudden change of demeanor, glancing at Hermione a moment before clearing his throat.  
“7… Or n-no deal.”  
Serverus sighed in frustration as he dug through his robes, pulling out an extra 3 galleons, placing all the coins on the table. Finally his gaze left her own, and without another word grabbed the jar held out by the two shaking hands of Borgin.  
And without another glance in her direction, he stomped out, slamming the door behind him so hard the bell snapped off.  
It took some minutes before Hermione could even stand, her breathing shallow as her heart threatened to break out of her chest. Did he recognize her? He didn’t make a scene or grab her, but the way he looked at her…  
It reminded her of back then.  
She finally pulled herself up, thankful her robes were concealing her shaking legs.  
“Forgive me… I seemed to have forgotten that my husband is awaiting me for dinner.” 

Borgin looked up from his counting of the days earnings and nodded, for once not wearing his signature grin. “Of course, please come by again! I’m sorry for the… Interruption.”

She could only bow her head in farewell before practically rushing out the door, her paranoia steering her to the same corner she apparated to. She needed to go, she needed-  
Suddenly her robes were grabbed and she was pulled into the darkness, the alley in between Borgin and Burkes. Her small body was thrown against the wall, the breath instantly knocked out of her. As she began fumbling for her wand, a hand roughly grabbed her wrists and pinned them to either side of her head.  
Her vision took time to adjust to the pitch black that surrounded her, her voice jumping into her throat as she once again met eyes with her old potions teacher, his gaze heavy and full of more contempt than she ever thought possible. He had her thoroughly pinned, and she found herself unable to scream as he leaned over her menacingly.  
“What are you doing here, Miss granger?!”  
It was over.


	3. Unwelcome Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just wanted to say thank you all for the comments and Kudos! I've been busy with work but I am really happy you guys enjoy my story!

-There were so many dead, so many students crumpled to the floor, lifeless. unable to ever graduate. Unable to make a family and live their dreams. Young and old, caught in deaths grip.  
Every so often, Severus would pause, taking in the carnage and despair little by little before pressing forward. He had to remain rigid. Unemotional. Unyielding. Breaking down from guilt was not an option.  
Even so, with every deceased student he had to step over, his body felt heavier. His footfalls broke the silence that crept through the halls, the only other sound being the occasional echoing screams.  
Anyone who fought against the Dark Lord would not die quickly. Whether is was an acid curse or the more mundane ways of torture, Avada would not be uttered until the person was unable to scream anymore.  
He averted his gaze as he saw a crow land on another body, picking at the former student with a hungry fervor. It had been two days of battle after all, and it if the quiet was anything to go by, it was over.  
He tried not to focus on the destruction around him, but it was impossible. People he taught with, children he chastised in class... Now dead.

Severus paused, his magic flaring. Something was… Calling to him? There wasn’t an explanation, but as he glanced at the wall ahead of him, he remembered.   
The door materialized in front of him suddenly as he was about to turn the hall, and his eyebrows rose as he approached.  
The Room of Requirement.  
Why did it appear to him? What did he need?  
Whatever it was...  
Severus took a deep breath as he pushed the door open, only to come face to face with a scene that would likely haunt him for the rest of his days.

The room was empty, save the two figures that were in the center.  
The witch’s head snapped up, her wand pivoting so it pointed in his direction. Her long curly hair was a mess, tangled with blood and debris. Her robe was torn from the forearms down, arms beginning to purple from bruising.  
Her eyes, however, were what captured him in a stinging embrace. Those hazel eyes, swollen from her continuous sobbing, glared at him with such hatred it made his heart beat harshly against his ribcage.  
Her gaze; accusatory. One with malice. Even as they stood staring at each other and her hand began to quiver, she did not break their eye contact.  
Only when Severus let his gaze wander down to the wizard she embraced, did he finally understand.  
The boy was virtually unmarked, his eyes shut. He looked as if he was sleeping, peacefully at that. But Severus recognized the fatal curse that shot him down even from here  
His mind wandered back to when he found Lily like that. When he held her in much the same way. His arms heavy with her weight. Her eyes were empty; hollow. She was gone.   
And now his promise was broken.  
‘Lily…. I failed you. Your son… ‘  
Harry Potter was dead

The memory played in his head as he loomed above her.   
His rage was barely contained.  
She cowered under him, her small hands holding her robes around her in a death grip. All he could feel was her overwhelming fear.  
Of course she should be scared of him, the sniveling dolt!   
"Answer me."  
The voice was sharp, demanding. He continued to glower down at her as she struggled to speak.  
"I… I needed to … Read...?"  
"Read?" He looked at her incredulously. "You needed to read in an establishment that not only is known for it's dark wares, but also frequently takes the company of death eaters?" His grip tightened as she began to flail, "and need I remind you, Miss Granger, that you were banned from his shop?"  
Her eyes stayed downcast, wincing at the pinching skin.  
"Let go of me." She mumbled under her breath. "Just let me go and I'll get out of your way..."  
"We aren't done here!”  
“Please-”  
“You're going to explain to me your reasons for making such an irrational decision."  
Hermoine stopped struggling for a moment, lifting her chin to meet eyes with him again. There it is. The hatred in her gaze was piercing, once again reminding him of that fateful day.  
“I am NOT irrational. I’m merely studying just in case-” she stopped, her eyes flicking to his arm. It was covered, but she knew exactly where it was. He inwardly flinched at the notice.  
“Just in case of what. Miss Granger?” his tone was brimming with malice as he pushed away from her, his hand subconsciously holding his forearm. “In case you find a way to completely dissolve the world of the Dark Lord?”  
He felt a twinge of annoyance as she didn’t answer right away, once again peering down at her feet.  
Idiot girl, how can someone with such intelligence be so stupid? Honestly, Did a few years out of school destroy her brain?  
"... Yes. Exactly that. " she cleared her throat as new confidence seemed to come out of nowhere, "I want to end Voldemort. By my hand or otherwise."  
The true bluntness of the statement almost overshadowed the fact that Hermione just belted out his lord's name.  
Almost.  
With a hiss he grabbed her arm and pulled her close, growling “You idiot girl!” before closing his eyes as he apparated them both away. The young gryffindor was not expecting an apparition so suddenly, and she felt herself stumble as they reached their destination. Her head was fuzzy as she struggled to regain air. Side apparition was exceedingly worse than doing it by yourself.  
"I suggest you find the sink before you hurl. Lest you cause me any further trouble."  
The rather empty voice rang in her ears as she took in her surroundings, all at once familiar and foreign. The structure was the same as well as some chosen decoration, otherwise the shrieking shack was impressively fixed up.  
"... Why did you bring me here?" She managed, steadying herself on the railing to the side of her.  
"Would you rather we chat in that alleyway?" Severus scoffed before disappearing into the adjacent room.  
Hermione just stood there dumbfounded.   
Her book night was a definite loss, and now she was in the presence of a death eater.  
Not only a Death Eater, but Severus Snape himself.  
Set in her ways she cast a diagnostics charm, frowning deeply when she realized just how warded this place was. There were many, but the one she was interested in was an anti apparating charm. It seemed only the master of the house could access the area through apparition.   
Wonderful, she was effectively trapped.

She gripped her wand and held it close as she finally trailed after the older man. She inwardly cringed as he sat down, gesturing for her to sit across from him. His mouth was turned into a disgusted frown as she took off her cloak and placed it to her side. His scowl only deepened as she sat across from him.  
“Get that bloody illusion off of you before I do it myself.”

Snape watched her with a piercing scowl as she waved her wand. He felt slightly guilty as he saw the slight tremor of her hand. It took a few tries, but the third spell cast caused the disguise to melt, and he was faced with the familiar appearance of one of his most aggravating former students.  
Her auburn hair poofed out in all directions as she completed her reversal, and her hands combed through her hair in an attempt to straighten it to no avail.  
Even though he already recognized her from the shop even in her glimmer, the sudden appearance of a former student from back then hit him like a truck.

Voldemort, wand pointed at a second year student.  
Minerva shot with multiple acid spells before she was finally hit with a stray killing curse.  
Paintings being torn from the wall as the portraits screamed desperately for their students.  
Potter and his green eyes, staring at him lifelessly….  
Empty emerald eyes.  
Lily…

His chest felt tight, but his face remained impassive as he inspected Hermoine a little.   
She was for better or for worse alive, which was more than he’d expected. However, she looked less than healthy. While not completely gaunt, her pallor almost matched his own sickly hue, and the bags under her eyes were larger than he’d ever seen them, and she was one who would stay up till early hours of the morning to study for her finals.  
It was unsettling as he took notes inside his head, but he quickly cleared his throat.  
“Do you often visit your enemies in broad daylight, Miss Granger?”

“No… Not often enough.” The muggleborn grimaced under his gaze, but her voice was otherwise clear.  
“And you don’t find that foolish?” Snape scoffed, “Visiting a shop that frequents death eaters?”

Silence. 

He leaned over and poured two cups of Earl Gray, pushing the second cup towards his guest.  
Hermoine frowned and flinched away from the offered drink, staring at him with obvious skepticality.  
“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already, and in a much cleaner way than poison.”  
At that Snape sipped his own tea and leaned back, watching her with dark onyx eyes.  
After a couple minutes, Hermione reached over to take the cup, but didn't take a drink.  
“Sometimes being foolish is worth the risk.” she finally responded, her eyes locked with his own.

“Worth the risk? What do you gain out of visiting Borgin’s nasty old shop?” his eyes narrowed as he tried to deduce, “You aren’t spying on Death eaters, are you?”

“And so what if I was?” she was oddly defensive, but he had the feeling that wasn’t the reason, at least, not the initial one.  
“Then I would label you an idiot.”  
The two sat in silence for a moment, glaring at the other with matching disdain, though each for different reasons.  
It was Snape that broke the silence, setting his cup down and crossing his arms indignantly. His voice was softer than before, “Tell me, are you and Weasley safe?”  
He felt minor satisfaction as Hermione’s fingers slipped slightly, cup bumping against the plate loudly. “Why would you even care to ask?” she frowned, though her gaze was a little less deadly.  
“You seem to picture me as some heartless heathen. I may not like you, but I’d rather you not be in any danger.”  
“You’re a death eater.”   
He rolled his eyes. Still such a child. “Thank you for reminding me. I didn’t notice.”   
“And you’re STILL helping him.”  
At this he tensed. Helping? Was this girl absolutely daft?  
“If I was helping him, don’t you think I would have dragged you in to meet with the Dark Lord himself?”   
“For all I know you could just be trying to lower my guard.”  
“You’re a very wanted criminal, Granger. Trust me, I would have dispatched with you as soon as I realized who you were if I really wanted to gain his favor.”  
“If you aren’t with him, then why did you not fight with us?!” her eyes sparked dangerously as the coffee table abruptly shook, the teapot flying against the wall right behind Snape. He raised an eyebrow as she looked at the mess, her expression aghast.   
Rather strong wandless magic… Noted.

It was honestly all very exhausting to try and reason with this woman. Snape pinched the ridge of his nose in irritation. Why was he trying to reason with her anyways?

“Take a moment and listen to yourself. I know you’re smarter than this…. This personage you're showing.” He leaned forward and adjusted the table, frowning at the tea cup that was spilt on the table. “I am only going to say this once. I’m not going to hurt you or Weasley. I'm not going to share this exchange with anyone, so please use that brain of yours and think.”  
He waved his wand and summoned the shards of the poor tea pot toward them, casting a quick reparo before placing it back down.

Hermione’s eyes were glued to his own once again, and he recognized that look. Cold and calculating. It was one he himself usually wore when he was trying to understand someone.   
Not that he could blame her of course.

Finally she cleared her throat, her voice shaky, “You must understand… You’re a bloody death eater. How am I supposed to sit here and have a pleasant cuppa tea with a henchman to the Dark Lord?”  
“This is no pleasant tea party, Granger. I brought you here for the express purpose of making sure you don’t get us bloody killed. Saying the Dark Lord’s name in public… Do you want him to find you?”

He pointed to his wrist, “Saying his name in front of a death eater is usually a death sentence. He can feel it. You’ve made my life exceedingly more difficult. Now I have to explain this transgression.”  
He grimaced at the thought of another dealing with the Dark Lord so soon after his last one, but he could come up with something. He usually did, and it was not uncommon for Death Eaters to take care of those who spoke their lord’s name in vain.  
However, there was still a punishment to be had.

“Well forgive me if I don’t feel bad in the slightest.” though from her avoiding his gaze, Snape suspected that was a slight lie.  
“Right.... Are you going to answer my question? Are you safe? I’m assuming Mr. Weasley is still alive, he was always the stubborn sort.”

“He… Is alive… And still as stubborn as ever.” Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in. She just confirmed something she shouldn't have.  
Severus allowed a small sigh of relief escape. He may not have liked the Weasleys much, but none of them deserved the fates they have been handled.  
“I see… Not even marriage has calmed him down then.”  
At the mention of her marital status, Hermione startled. “Pardon?”  
He gestured to her hand, which was still gripping her cup like it was a life line. Her ring finger was adorned with a rather small diamond ring, though it still looked grand in its own right.  
“I’m assuming you’ve married Weasley and not some random muggle on the street.”

She frowned, setting the cup down and placing her hands in her lap. She fiddled with the ring as she shook her head, “It’s our… Cover. Nothing real. Of course.”  
He raised a brow, “Yes… A farce.”  
It wasn’t as if he couldn’t read the room. He was rather adept at understanding others emotions, regardless if he wanted to or not. But it was his image to be the cruel and unyielding professor. Usually students avoided bringing drama into his class, especially the romantic sort.  
However… No matter the smart remarks he had in his brain at the moment, he just stared, silently.  
It was broken when she abruptly stood, her stance oddly stiff.  
“I think… You’ve learned enough, professor. I need to go home before Ron notices I’m missing.”  
“He isn’t aware of- Of course he isn’t.” Severus shook his head as he too stood, reaching a hand out.  
“I’ll apparate you to Knockturne Alley then. However… You need to stay out of there from now on. Not that you would know this, but Death Eaters routinely inspect the area for pockets of resistance. ‘Enemies hide in plain sight’ as it were.”  
Hermione nodded, taking his hand. She closed her eyes as they were once thrust in and out of one place to another. They appeared where they were once before, the dark and empty alleyway.   
Severus stepped away, his gaze unreadable in the dark.   
“Stay away, Miss Granger. The war is over. The best you can do is hide. Stop trying to play the hero.” he turned, and without another glance back, he vanished.  
Hermione shook her head, though he was already gone.  
“The war is not over.” she whispered, eyes aflame with rebellion as she too disappeared.


End file.
